Man of Constant Sorrow
by Douglas Wilde
Summary: One night in a dark and seedy New York bar, Emmett meets a strange young boy, who will change his life, and his definition of love a great deal. Emmett X OC, rated M for possible lemons at a later point. Despite this summary, it's actually worth a read, I promise.
1. Chapter 1

After decades of looking back, of analysing every detail of their story, Emmett had finally come to the conclusion that it had been the song. That's what had set into motion a chain of events that he couldn't have even begun to anticipate. Man of Constant Sorrow was certainly a beautiful song, but what had it been about the song?

It's fate Em, that's all. Lord what fools we mortals be, et cetera, et cetera. The voice rang through his head, carefree and easy, filling him with the most delicious mixture of elation, excitement and nerves. Maybe it is fate he conceded to his subconscious. Or maybe it had been the location which had made the song so special. You didn't expect to hear Bob Dylan in a New Yoik bar? The voice was back, louder and more mischievous. Just admit it Em, fate. F A T E. Emmett chuckled under his breath, clutching the pencil in his hand. Write it down he had said. If you write it down, you'll remember it all. The happiness, the heartbreak, and everything in between. Emmett looked out of the window of the tiny cottage (how many jokes had Thorne made about him being too big to fit in his Forkes home, let alone a cottage) and regarded his view, letting it fill him up. He let his eyes drink in the lilac sky, streaked with gashes of crimson, the snow-kissed mountains in the distance and the meadows of downy grass and lavender, all coated with wisps of silken fog. Feeling inspiration ghost its fingers across his tired mind, he put the pencil to paper, casting his mind to that seedy New York bar, to the song, and to the grey eyed boy, whose eyes, even now, bored into Emmett, deeper than any others, seeing more than any others. He heard the name, the beautiful name, ringing through the snatches of conversation and laughter.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, please give a warm New York welcome to Mr Mickey Thorne!"


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Emmett still had no idea why he was here in this bar, so far away from Forkes, from the Cullens from (just fucking say it) from Rose.

"Oh, you don't know?" sniggered a voice in the back of his mind. "Let me remind you. The same thing you were in Texas for last month, the same thing you'll be in some other seedy bar for in next month, for every month, until-"

Emmett dug his fingers into the countertop of the bar, praying for the voice to stop. There was an abrupt snap, as the wooden surface splintered beneath his fingers. He glanced around, checking to see if anyone had noticed, but of course they hadn't, this was New York, the city where nobody gave a shit. Ruthless.

"Just right for a predator like you then?"

"Shut up" he hissed under his breath, drawing a glare from the couple seated beside him.

Okay just calm down, calm down, it's not too late Emmett, you can get up, leave this shithole and get back to Forkes, back to Rose, back to familiarity, to comfort. And the more he thought about it, the better the idea sounded. He rose to leave, putting on his jacket, when he heard the announcement.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, please give a warm New York welcome to Mr Mickey Thorne!"

He looked up, more out of curiosity than anything else, and that's when he saw him.

It was the eyes that drew his attention. They were grey, grey as steel, as shale, grey as a stormy sky, and yet they radiated a peculiar warmth, and innocence. He was tiny, only about 5'5", and his skin was dappled caramel. His chestnut hair was tousled in a crown atop his head. As he stood there, alone on the stage, with his guitar held in front of him like a shield, Emmett felt a sense of panic rise within him.

"He won't survive, he's so tiny and helpless, he's not going to last a day" he thought. The loud chatter continued through the bar, as the boy approached the microphone, and Emmett was getting ready to shout for silence when the boy began to speak.

"Hi everyone. As many of you know, the Defence Of Marriage Act didn't pass this week." This roused a large cheer amongst the bar patrons. Emmett felt a tug at his heart as he heard the boy's voice. It was soft and melodious. He seemed to be looking right into Emmett's eyes as he spoke. "Anyway, I um, I thought that was pretty great, so I decided on this song as a means of celebrating. Feel free to sing along if you know the words."

Silence fell over the bar at last, as he began to strum at the guitar. Emmett felt a start as he recognised the opening chords to Man of Constant Sorrow, by Bob Dylan. No way...it couldn't be. This kid couldn't be more than 17. "I'm a man of constant sorrow" the boy sang, and all conscious thought left Emmett's mind, as he felt himself carried along on the voice. His voice was perfect for this song, slightly husky, filled with a pain beyond his years. As he sang, Emmett felt his mind tread down avenues it hadn't been down for an eternity. He remembered life before Rose, before the Cullens, he remembered

(Harry)

Remembered the smell of lavender, the cold wind on his bare chest, the feeling of hard sinewy muscles in his arms. He remembered the stars that night, the sense of completeness, of utter contentment that he'd yet to recapture, that sense that after years and years of trying and trying, of

(Satin, silk, roses)

Trying with girls, and wondering what was wrong with him, why he wasn't enjoying it, the sense that maybe he wasn't wrong, maybe he was right, maybe he was alright after all

(Oh God)

That everything was going to be okay.

Applause broke him out of his train of thought. He looked up, shocked. The song was finished, and the entire bar were on their feet, cheering. Emmett felt a sense of relief course through him, he was okay, the boy was okay, he was going to be okay. He looked up, and saw something truly beautiful; the boy's face had broken into a smile. At that moment, Emmett was seized with an overwhelming urge to hold his face, to count the creases in the corner of his eyes when he laughed, and to press his fingers to each perfect dimple.

"Thank you all very much. Have a wonderful evening!"

His voice was more confident, filled with elation, as he took his guitar offstage. The announcer took to the stage, announcing the next act, but Emmett was barely listening. At that moment he realised that he had to see the boy, speak to him, if he didn't, he would die. This was his chance to experience that beautiful wholeness again.

"Oh sure Emmett, of course. How noble" sneered the voice from the back of his head. "Not like you're looking for a cheap fuck right? A go on that bubble butt, make those perfect pipes squeal your name, leave him panting and bruised like all the others?"

"Shut up." Emmett muttered again, and mercifully, the voice did. As he looked up once more, he saw the boy was at the other end of the bar, already surrounded by a throng of admirers. Emmett walked slowly to the other side of the bar, sensing that with every step he was moving further and further from Rose and the Cullens, and yet closer to being whole once more.

**Hello to my readers, few though you may be. Two chapters in, and I'm loving it, so let me know what you think.**


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